The American Way
by Penelope Louise
Summary: AU High School. Ziva is an exchange student from Israel and finds herself staying with Abby. The team make their way through high school with more than their fair share of love won, love lost and interesting situations. Tiva, Kibbs, Kari, McAbby.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Blame Larkin [heimedall] for this one. I had enough plot bunnies... so she gave me another one. And I just HAD to write it!! Well, I hope you enjoy it. The updates might not be very quick, but I'll do my best!!**_

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Ziva walked off the plane, smiling back at the cheerful air hostess who had served her on her flight from Tel Aviv to Washington DC. She hadn't seen much of DC so far, only from the plane before they had landed and she walked along with the other passengers – most American, returning from their summer holidays – towards collecting her luggage. Her backpack was slung over her right shoulder, heavy from the six books she had read on the plane. Her father had suggested that she should 'try just observing the world from above' but she'd decided on the books instead. After all, oceans weren't so interesting from three thousand feet.

The airport was bustling and languages of all sorts floated around Ziva, some she understood, some she didn't.

"_Excusez-moi?_" Ziva looked around and a woman with a young girl next to her came into her eyesight. "_Savez-vous où la collection de bagages?_"

"_C'est là que je m'en vais. Vous pourrez suivre_," Ziva answered. She was only following the signs to get to the luggage collection point, but unfortunately for the French woman, the signs were in German, Spanish and English.

"_Merci, merci_," the woman looked relieved, and the little girl looked up at Ziva with a small smile. Ziva guessed she had to thank her father and his obsession with teaching her languages; he had taught her – or had taught to her – English, Spanish, French, German and Arabic. Occasionally it could get a little confusing, but she managed.

The hustle and bustle increased as they neared the conveyor belts as everyone pushed to get their bags first. Ziva hung around the edges; she'd get her bag eventually, it wasn't as if she was in a hurry anywhere.

Sure enough, people started to drift away having gotten their bags, and she was easily able to spot her four suitcases and manhandle them off the conveyor belt. She pulled out the handles of them and awkwardly tried to pull them all at once. She failed miserably.

"Excuse me? Can I help?" Ziva turned to see a tall boy with dark brown hair behind her. His only bag seemed to be a black canvas hold-all slung over his shoulder.

"Thank you," Ziva smiled at him appreciatively and he took two of her suitcases and they began to walk towards the exit.

"You're not American, are you?" the boy asked and she shook her head.

"I am Israeli," she replied with a small smile. The guy grinned.

"Cool! I'm less interesting. I'm from New York," Ziva chuckled and he continued. "I'm Tobias."

"Ziva," Ziva replied and Tobias smiled.

"A pretty name for a pretty girl," he grinned and she laughed.

"Where are you headed?" she asked and he shrugged.

"School," he didn't sound too happy about it. "Naval Academy. All boys."

"Tragedy," Ziva smirked and he rolled his eyes.

"It is too!" Tobias grinned at her. "It's insufferable! They make us wear service dress as our uniform, for heavens sake."

"I have been to an all girls school, that is not so bad," Ziva replied, with a sultry smile. "Anyway, I think you would look rather handsome in dress uniform."

She winked at him and they walked out into the arrivals lounge.

"Are you meeting anyone here?" she asked him and he shook his head.

"No, I'm renting a car and meeting my friend in town before driving to school," he informed her and she smiled.

"I do not think these Americans would appreciate me driving on their roads," Ziva grinned.

"Are you a senior?" Tobias asked her and she raised one eyebrow.

"I have no idea. Back home I was in tenth grade, so I am in eleventh now," Ziva replied and Tobias nodded.

"Miss Ziva, you are a junior," he chuckled and Ziva read the signs people were holding up until she spotted one that read in large, colorful letters:

_WELCOME TO AMERICA_

_ZIVA DAVID_

Ziva laughed as she noticed the girl holding the sign was jumping up and down.

So, this was Abby… Ziva wondered if all American girls wore the same sort of clothes Abby did… certainly no one in Israel would have worn clothes like that. But, she had to admit, this Abby did suit the clothes well. She headed towards her.

"Abby?" Ziva said and the girl brought the sign down.

"Ziva!" Abby exclaimed and hugged her. Ziva went as stiff as a board – hugging wasn't something she was used to, especially from a girl she had just met.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Abby cried. "I've been waiting to meet you for ages!"

Abby noticed the boy standing behind Ziva.

"Toby?" she asked confusedly and Tobias's face morphed into a wide grin.

"Hey Abs. One hell of a coinkidink!" Tobias chuckled and Ziva looked confused.

"What is a quinkaquink?" she asked and Abby laughed.

"A coinkidink. Like coincidence," Abby answered and Ziva nodded slowly.

"Oh… okay," Ziva replied, pretending to understand. Americans sure were odd. She turned to Tobias. "Thank you very much."

"No problem, Miss David. I hope to see you again sometime," Tobias smiled flirtatiously and set her suitcases down before heading off to collect his rental car. Abby bounced up and down again before grabbing Ziva's suitcases and heading off to the outside world. Ziva followed.

"I can't believe you met Toby! That's so weird…" Abby grinned. "Toby's a friend of a senior – a guy I know from school – and they usually hang out together so I've met him a few times."

Ziva nodded.

"Just to warn you – please don't get all creeped out like some people do – but my mom, dad and my brother are deaf," Abby told Ziva quickly and Ziva only just heard everything Abby said.

"That's okay," Ziva smiled reassuringly. "An old friend of mine was blind…"

Abby could tell that Ziva had been going to say something else but had stopped herself.

"And…?" Abby prompted curiously.

"He died," Ziva spoke bluntly. "In an explosion in Haifa."

Ziva ducked her head and Abby's face fell. "Oh… I'm so sorry!" Ziva shrugged.

"It is fine," she answered and bit her lip so she wouldn't be too upset. Abby knocked on the window of a car – her mom would feel the vibration if she didn't see them first – and the doors were unlocked.

"You must be Ziva," Mrs. Sciuto said slowly, trying to pronounce the words carefully but even so it was obvious that she was deaf since birth. It didn't bother Ziva at all.

Ziva signed back 'yes'. Her father had gone through a phase of learning other sorts of language and so for a term she'd been taught Japanese and American Sign Language until her father decided that in the end she didn't need to know those languages.

Now she wished she'd continued learning ASL.

Mrs. Sciuto smiled widely before signing something at Abby that Ziva didn't catch.

"It's nice to meet you," Mrs. Sciuto informed the Israeli exchange student. Abby grinned at Ziva.

"I think this year is going to be…" Abby thought for a perfect adjective. "Awesome."

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A/N: Feedback [REVIEWS!] would be much appreciated!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Sorry for not updating! RL has been SO hectic! I'm organizing a concert, going on holidays, doing exams, revising for others and I swear teachers find that out and purposely set more homework. Anyway, onwards!**_

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As soon as Mrs. Sciuto cut the engine of the family car, Abby had jumped out of the car and was basically dragging Ziva after her. Marianne – Mrs. Sciuto had informed Ziva that Ziva should call her by her first name – simply smiled and shook her head at the enormous amounts of energy her daughter seemed to have before getting out of the car and following the two girls into the house slightly more demurely.

Ziva hardly had a chance to take a look around the inside of the house before being hauled off upstairs by Abby because, "I want to show you your room!" Abby had exclaimed, her pigtails bouncing up and down and seemingly defying gravity. Of what Ziva was able to notice before being pulled up the stairs seemed exceptionally colorful. The walls were painted bright colors and many pictures hung on said walls, depicting scenes of sunsets, rainforests, beaches at dawn and occasionally family pictures. Ziva smiled as she noticed one of a five or six year old Abby.

Marianne Sciuto hugged her husband when he came out of the sitting room to find out 'what all the commotion' was. She explained to him that Ziva had arrived, and Cordell Sciuto raised his eyebrows. When Abby had first received the details about her pen pal she had been a little down, since she had thought that the 'Israeli girl' who she had been designated to look after would not speak any English and would be 'weirded out' – as Abby herself had put it – with the fact that her family was deaf.

Ziva had taken it surprisingly well; Marianne signed to her husband, so quickly that even someone who had been learning for years would find it difficult to decipher the conversation. 'I think that she is used to people being different.'

"Okay, so, this is your room. I really hope you like it since my brother and I spent ages decorating, although that was really fun but if you don't like it then I suppose we could redo it and decorate it somehow else but I-" Abby rambled and Ziva interrupted her before Abby could finish her rather long sentence.

"I like it very much. Thank you, Abby," Ziva smiled appreciatively at Abby. The room was painted in a pale blue color, with a picture of a waterfall at sunset on one wall.

"That was in Austria. We went last year," Abby informed Ziva, smiling. "My brother loves photography."

"It is a beautiful photograph," Ziva commented truthfully. She sat down on the bed and picked up a pile of paperwork that had been piled neatly on the pillow.

"That's from school," Abby informed her. "Your options and all that jazz."

Ziva raised her eyebrows slightly at the odd expression but kept quiet anyway. She looked through the papers and read what her options were. Abby watched as Ziva took a pen from her bag and wrote in the spaces available what she wanted to take.

"That was quick," Abby commented, with a grin.

"I am a decisive person," Ziva replied as she wrote her name down at the top.

"Uh Ziva? I don't think the registrar will know who you are," Abby pointed out and Ziva glanced down at the pen marks.

"Why?" she asked, slightly confused.

"I would be skeptical if they read… Hebrew?" Abby hazarded a guess from the research she had done on the language Ziva might possibly speak, just in case she didn't speak English. Ziva noticed her mistake and bit her lip in embarrassment.

"Oops," she grinned nervously as she crossed out her name as she was so used to writing it. Abby sat next to her and leaned over her shoulder to read what subjects Ziva had chosen.

"Math, English, Science, Sport, Psychology, Spanish, French and German… Woah, are you some sort of genius?" Abby gaped at Ziva, who looked back at her blankly.

"Why?" Ziva questioned Abby's surprised expression.

"Three languages? Most people complain at taking one," Abby answered.

"My father had an interest in me learning languages," Ziva replied cautiously, feeling slightly odd at this girl she hardly knew learning so much about her in such a small amount of time. Usually people barely knew her name and age until she had met them three times. Ziva prided herself as… mysterious. It came with the job description of her father, she told herself. It had obviously rubbed off on her.

"Awesome!" Abby exclaimed. "Want to help me in Spanish?"

Ziva grinned and chuckled. "Anytime. Abby… you don't wear uniforms do you?"

Abby laughed. "No! Although they are trying to implicate regulations that I feel are absolutely stupid," she replied vehemently. Ziva glanced at Abby's outfit.

"I see," she answered simply.

Abby was just about to say something else when there was a knock on the door. Her eyes lit up and she bounced to her feet.

"That's might be Kate!" she exclaimed gleefully before encircling Ziva's wrist with a surprisingly strong grip and hurrying downstairs. By the time they reached the front door it was already open. A young boy of about eleven turned and signed something to Abby.

"I already guessed it was Kate, Josh," Abby spoke and signed simultaneously. "It's either that or her doppelganger."

Josh poked his tongue out at his older sister before waving shyly to Ziva before running back into the kitchen.

"That was my brother," Abby informed Ziva, just in case Ziva hadn't caught on. "And this is Kate."

Ziva looked at the pretty girl standing in the doorway. Her hair was more tamed and slightly darker than Ziva's own. She also seemed slightly taller and her smile was tinted a medium red.

"Kate," Kate informed Ziva. "Abby told me all about you."

Ziva smiled and shook her head. "Abby, did you tell the whole of America that I was coming?"

"Most of it," Kate answered for Abby, leaving the Goth glaring at Kate. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

"And you," Ziva replied, having been informed of Abby's 'gang' of friends in the emails that Abby and her had exchanged before Ziva arrived in America.

"My mom gave me this to bring," Kate handed over a small box which Abby opened.

"Cake!" Abby grinned. "Ah, Kate, your mother knows me too well."

"For Ziva," Kate admonished her with a smile.

"Oh, so you're ditching me for the newbie?" Abby complained playfully.

"Anytime, Abs, anytime."

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A/N: YAY! KATE! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Well, aren't I nice! Two chapters in the same week! LOL. Enjoy! **_

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Ziva's first day dawned and unfortunately it was not bright and – depressingly for Abby – and very early. Marianne practically dragged her daughter out of bed, with the promise of money for a 'Caf-Pow', of which Ziva had no idea what it was. She wondered fleetingly as she waited for Abby to get ready of whether it was a type of weapon, but ignored the idea as Americans seemed against the idea of students bringing weapons to school. Most schools were. Except if you were in Mossad training, Ziva conceded, since weapons were compulsory.

"Why do you look so cheerful?" Abby asked sluggishly as she brushed her hair and braided it tightly.

"I'm starting a new school in a new country and will hopefully make new friends. It's all new," Ziva smiled. "And I read a very good book this morning."

"When **were **you awake?" Abby asked curiously, slightly sceptical that she wanted to know the answer. For the last few mornings Ziva had always been up and dressed when she woke up. She was beginning to wonder if Ziva only faked sleeping and actually never slept.

"0500," Ziva answered promptly. "No one else seemed to be awake… so I went for a run."

"5AM," Abby stated dumbly. "Why so early?"

"Routine," Ziva replied. At home her father had her waking at 0500, going for a five mile run, having a shower, making her own breakfast and then getting ready for school and arriving at her college at eight in the morning.

"Where did you run?" Abby questioned interestedly, pulling on her knee length socks.

"Near the Potomac River," Ziva informed her, "I did a little research before I came. I dislike being lost."

"I've been down there," Abby added. "Kate likes to draw the scenery there so she took me there to show me what it really looked like."

"Which part of the river?" Ziva asked as Abby tied the laces on her boots. Abby shrugged, although it wasn't obvious since she was leaning over.

"You'd have to ask Kate," she replied apologetically. "Come on, we better get going before we're late."

Ziva followed Abby out of the house, smiling. She waved to Marianne as she passed and Abby kissed her mom goodbye. Ziva had a backpack slung over her right shoulder while Abby had a black satchel with skulls on it and was carrying a metal lunchbox in her other hand. Ziva walked in silence, half listening to Abby's babbling and half wondering what the school would be like.

She had researched the Morrow Naval College extensively on the internet and had almost memorized the prospectus. It had looked like a very nice place from the pictures she had seen and the extra curricular activities mentioned had pleased her. Fencing, karate, dancing, baseball, drama productions: Ziva was looking forward to signing up for many clubs. They even had something called a 'Glee Club' and she wondered whether it was anything like the one from the American show that had recently premiered in her homeland.

They soon entered a stream of people walking, running or pushing through the school gates and were dragged by the flow of students heading into the college via the very impressive main doors. Abby and Ziva veered off to the right and Ziva almost collided with a tall, dark haired boy with a cheeky grin.

"Watch it," he grinned jokingly before turning and heading away. Ziva stared after him for a while before continuing to follow Abby.

"Who was that?" she asked Abby.

"Damon. Damon Werth," Abby told her knowingly. "He's in twelfth grade."

Ziva nodded as they walked into the reception area. "Can I help?" the receptionist looked up at them over her glasses. The name on her badge told Ziva that her name was Cynthia.

"Ziva David," Ziva informed the woman. "I was told to come here?"

The woman nodded: the principal and vice principal liked to talk with any new students. "I'm sure Principal Morrow will be here soon."

"I'll wait," Abby offered, but Ziva shook her head.

"I'll be fine, Abby," she replied. She was very grateful for Abby's offer but didn't want to keep Abby from whatever lesson she had first period.

"Are you sure…?" Abby asked and Ziva nodded her head. She was about to say something when the door to the principal's office opened and a smart woman with shoulder-length red hair stepped out.

"You must be Ziva?" Ziva tell whether it was a statement or a question, so nodded anyway.

"Please come in," the woman smiled and Ziva suddenly felt very nervous: a feeling she wasn't exactly used to. Ziva followed the woman into the office and the man sitting behind the desk stood up and proffered a hand for her to shake. She did and he gestured for her to sit down in one of two chairs in front of the desk. Ziva sat down cautiously and the red-headed woman settled into the other chair.

"So, you are our new student then. We are very happy to have to here, Ziva," the man, who she suspected was Principal Morrow, smiled at her. It was more a smile of courtesy than of warmth, though: he seemed very… official, Ziva thought. "This is Vice Principal Shepard."

"Good morning, Ziva," the woman, Vice Principal Shepard, smiled at her, more than making up for the warmth lost in Principal Morrow.

"My name is Principal Morrow," he added and pushed some papers across his desk which Miss – or Mrs, Ziva hadn't worked that out yet – Shepard picked up and showed to Ziva.

"This is your timetable. We tried to fit all your classes in, but unfortunately we couldn't let you do French and Spanish, as they are taught at the same time. What subject would you like to do? There is mechanics, music or dance. And you didn't fill in one of your subjects. For that one the choices are drama, business studies or world history, although I understand you already have done a few courses in history and social studies," the Vice Principal looked expectantly at Ziva.

"Drama," Ziva decided immediately on the second, although she wasn't sure on the first. She had… bad memories of dance. Not breaking her leg or anything drastic, simply… issues. She could play instruments and she sang, but she was not particularly keen on studying music for two years. Mechanics didn't sound amazingly interesting, but she had to admit that it would probably be a skill that she would need in later life. "And mechanics."

"Okay," Principal Morrow seemed slightly surprised at her choice of mechanics. He had had her pegged as a dancer; she had the lithe body shape and the graceful walk of someone who had studied ballet or something similar. Miss – Ziva had decided on the lack of wedding or engagement ring – Shepard filled in the empty spaces on the timetable and passed it to Ziva who glanced down at it, scanning it and committing it to memory. First she had… Spanish. Not a bad way to start a new school, semester, week and day.

"Here is a list of extra curricular clubs that you may be interested to participate in," the Vice Principal informed her, and soon the pile of papers was in Ziva's hands with each piece explained about in detail.

"Have a good day," Principal Morrow stood up and shook Ziva's hand once again. Miss Shepard put her hand on Ziva's shoulder and led her to the door before opening it for the new student.

"Enjoy your day, Ziva," she smiled and Ziva smiled back at the friendly woman.

"Thank you," Ziva said brightly before heading off. Cynthia watched as Ziva walked past her.

"Jenny?" Cynthia caught the Vice Principal's attention, and the woman looked at her curiously. "Did you give her a map?"

Jenny Shepard smiled nervously. "I knew there was something I forgot."

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A/N: The story will begin to get a little more interesting as the other characters get introduced. Sorry if you think I'm rambling! **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Sorry for not updating for a while, I've been away in Warwickshire! I hope you like this chapter! It's a little bit of a meeter/filler chapter :)**_

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Ziva read the sign on the door. '1.16.' So, that meant she was on the first floor, and this was room 16. _That doesn't help at all, _she thought. Ziva sighed as she began to walk down the corridor. Her other schedules at other schools had had room numbers on, but this one simply said what lesson and what time. Not exactly helpful for the new girl.

Ziva was still looking at her schedule as she rounded the corner.

"Agh!" she exclaimed and looked up sharply at the person she'd walked directly into. _Shit, _she swore silently as she felt something cold dripping down inside her t-shirt.

"Oh, damn, I'm sorry!" the guy who she'd walked into looked at her apologetically. "It's only water…"

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Ziva glared at him. She had already been annoyed at herself for not being able to find the classroom, and now she was angry at this absolute _idiot _for walking into her with an open bottle of water in his hand.

Oh, and she didn't know where the toilets were so she could clean herself up. _Great. Genius way to start the day, David._

"I'm Tony," Tony proffered a hand – the one without the now partially empty water bottle in – to Ziva for her to shake. She did so with a too firm grip and Tony clenched his teeth as he felt the bones in his hand get slightly crushed.

"Ziva," she smiled through gritted teeth at him as she felt water going down her bra. No, her first day was not going quite as planned.

"Are you lost?" Tony asked quizzically and she looked at him haughtily.

"No," she lied.

"Where are you going?" he questioned her and she slipped her schedule into her bag, attempting to be subtle.

"Spanish," Ziva replied and Tony arched an eyebrow.

"For a start, you're on the wrong floor," he replied with a smirk. Ziva narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

"Whatever," she turned to walk away but he caught her arm.

"You're going the wrong way. Follow me," Ziva rolled her eyes as he practically pulled her down the corridor by her wrist.

"You must be the probie Abby's been talking about for the last few months," Tony noted as they headed towards the stairs.

"Probie?" she looked up at him, confused.

"New person," Tony answered. "That's what we call new people. Gibbs coined it."

"Gibbs?" Ziva asked again.

"A mate. He's a senior," Ziva nodded slowly.

"Okay…" she replied. She hated having to ask so many questions, but she wasn't going to get anywhere if she pretended that she knew about everything. And anyway, it would probably sound creepy if she pretended to know Tony's friend group. "You don't seem… Abby's type."

"Neither do you," Tony grinned. "Well, I didn't like her at first. When I joined, I thought she was so weird. But then Kate introduced me to her and she's _muy _adorable when you get to know her. Kate is-"

"I know who Kate is," Ziva interrupted, pleased at knowing something at least. "Do you mind if I use a bathroom first? My shirt is… slightly damp."

Tony looked guilty. "Yeah, sorry about that," he smiled nervously at her and she shook her head.

"It's fine," she answered. She had to admit, she did like Tony. He was… well, he was likeable. She moved closer to whisper in his ear. "I'll get you back later."

Tony grinned and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, fighting talk!"

A few minutes later, Tony was left leaning against the corridor wall while he waited for Ziva to finish drying off her shirt. Soon the door reopened, revealing Ziva with a mostly dry shirt.

"See? Not that bad!" Tony defended himself and Ziva looked at him sceptically.

"Thank you, Tony, I accept your apology," she hinted and he chuckled.

"To Spanish," he announced and put his arm out for her to hold.

"What a gentleman," Ziva said sarcastically and punched him – lightly in her opinion – in the shoulder.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, with a pained expression on his face and she rolled her eyes.

"You are such a pimp, Tony," she replied and he looked at her confusedly before realizing what she meant.

"I think you mean wimp, Ziva," he reminded her and she shrugged.

"That too."

A few minutes later, Ziva found herself with Tony outside the Spanish classroom. She knocked lightly and the teacher – Señora Valdez, Ziva had read on her schedule – looked up.

"Entrar!" she called and Tony pushed the door open. Ziva walked in, trying to not look nervous by the faces of the pupils that turned to look at her as she entered.

"Hola, está Ziva, correcto?" Señora Valdez spoke slowly and Ziva smiled back awkwardly.

"Sí. Es un placer conocerte Señora Valdez," Ziva replied, faster than the teacher had spoken to her.

"Ah, habla muy bien español," she smiled and Ziva noted that she spoke much faster now. She supposed that the teacher spoke slower to her students. After all, it made sense. Her German teacher had spoken at a pace that a sloth could have kept up with when she had been beginning learning the new language. By her third year the teacher had sped up her talking to almost the natural pace of her speaking.

Tony blinked slowly, silently and quickly translating what they were saying in his head. _I've got competition, _he thought with a smile. He had an awful accent and sometimes made grammatical mistakes but even so, he had been Señora Valdez's protégé before Ziva had arrived.

"Veo que usted ha cumplido con Tony. ¿Por qué no te sientas con él?" Ziva nodded and turned to Tony.

"Where do you sit?" she asked and he gestured to a desk with an empty one next to it. She walked over and sat at the empty desk.

"Ziva!" Ziva looked up from taking things she needed from her bag. She grinned at the familiar face.

"Hola, Kate," Ziva said, happy that she already knew someone in the class. Tony sat down next to her and handed her a book and textbook that Señora Valdez had given him for Ziva.

"Gracias," Ziva smiled flirtatiously.

"Open your books on page 45, please," Ziva tried to place the woman's accent, and guessed on somewhere such as Mexico, possibly the north eastern part. She opened her book and flicked to page 45. _Grammar, _she thought, _yay. Not._

She looked up as the teacher continued speaking. "Get into groups of three and work on Ejercicio Dos."

Soon, people were moving around and getting into groups. Ziva glanced at Tony.

"Do you mind?" she asked simply, and he shook his head.

"No guy ever would, Zee-vah," he grinned and she rolled her eyes. He looked up and waved someone over. Ziva glanced up.

"If I must, Tony," Kate smirked and sat down next to Ziva.

"Bring it on," Tony grinned.

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A/N: I hope you liked this chapter! Feedback is much appreciated!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Thanks for all your lovely reviews! Enjoy!**_

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"What class have you get next, Zee-vah?" Tony asked Ziva, as they were packing up from Spanish.

"Mechanics," Ziva replied. Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Really?" he asked. "I never took you for a meccy."

"A… what?" Ziva questioned, looking confused.

"Mechanic," Kate replied from behind her. "Jethro's in that class too."

Tony grinned. "Oh, Ziva's going to meet Gibbs."

"Who are Jethro and Gibbs?" Ziva asked, as they exited the classroom together. Kate laughed.

"Same person," she corrected Ziva. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The guys generally call each other by their surnames."

"Why?" Ziva asked, looking around.

"No idea," Kate shrugged. "It's a guy thing."

Tony hit her lightly in the arm and Kate punched him back, except not quite so softly. Tony yelped and Ziva smothered a laugh.

"Wimp," Kate told him. Ziva smirked: the pair really was like brother and sister.

"Have you two dated?" she asked and Kate looked shocked.

"No!" she laughed.

"Me and Kate? Never," Tony shook his head. "She's not my type."

"Female? Legs? Really, Tony?" Kate raised her eyebrows. "I thought all women were your type."

"Not _all _women, Kate. I do have standards," he answered haughtily. Kate raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Oh yes," she pretended to realize something. "They have to be easy to get into bed too."

Ten minutes and much banter later, Ziva arrived at her mechanics class, escorted by Tony and Kate. She glanced at who was going to be in her class. They were all boys.

"Do you do mechanics too?" Ziva asked Kate and Tony. Kate shook her head while Tony nodded.

"I took economics," Kate replied ruefully. "I'll catch up with you guys later. Say hello to Jethro for me, please."

"Will do," Tony nodded and Kate waved to Ziva as she walked away back into the school building.

Tony and Ziva walked towards the rest of the class. As they did, most of the boys sitting on the benches around a wooden table turned and stared. One boy wolf whistled and Ziva grinned. A man in around his early twenties stood up, cleaning his hands on a rag. He walked forward and proffered his hand to Ziva.

"You must be Ziva David," he said, mispronouncing her name.

"Dah-veed," she correctly, with an awkward smile.

"Sorry," he answered. "I'm Mr. Brennan, although most of my students call me Ryan."

She nodded and smiled.

"Hey, Mr. B?" he turned back to one of his students. Ziva's mouth curved into a smile as she recognised the boy who had spoken.

"Yes, Damon?" Mr. Brennan said, returning to the table and gesturing for Ziva to sit down. She did, and Tony sat next to her.

"What are we doing today?" Damon asked, grinning.

"Introductions, to begin with," the teacher replied. "Since we have a new student in the class."

He turned to Ziva, and gestured for her to begin.

"I'm Ziva David and I am fifteen. I am an exchange student from Israel and I am staying with Abby Sciuto," she told everyone.

"Hobbies? Family?" Mr. Brennan hinted and Ziva shrugged.

"I like to do martial arts," she conceded, "and I love reading. My father… works in Mossad."

She decided not to say anything else. She didn't want to go through her whole 'sob story' of Tali and her mom, and mentioning that her father was actually the director of Mossad seemed a little inappropriate, seeing as links between Israel and America weren't perfect at the moment.

"What sort of martial arts?" one boy asked, grinning.

"Karate, tae kwon do, jiu-jitsu, capoeira, kickboxing and muay lao," Ziva answered, and watched as the boys' collective eyebrows all rose higher about three centimetres.

"And a black belt in all?" Tony joked but Ziva shrugged.

"Except muay lao and capoeira," she answered. "I only just started them."

She mistook the boys' amazed faces for confusion. "Did I say something wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"No, I think what you said was just right," Mr. Brennan said, looking around at the transfixed expressions. "Are you boys going to introduce yourselves? Tony, you start??"

Tony looked up. "Oh. Oh yeah. I'm Tony DiNozzo and I'm sixteen next month. I speak Italian because my father taught it to me… uh, I play football and soccer."

Ziva chuckled and he looked at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she answered. "What do you play in football?"

"Quarterback," Tony answered and Ziva smiled. Mr. Brennan gestured for the next boy to continue.

"I'm Jimmy Palmer and I'm fifteen. I like science and reading," Ziva ignored the fact that some of the boys were laughing.

"What's your favourite book?" she asked.

"I like War and Peace, although it's a little… heavy. I like Persuasion though," he replied, blushing slightly.

"So do I," Ziva grinned and he smiled nervously back.

"I'm Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I'm almost seventeen and I like sailing and building boats. I often go down to the shooting range with my dad," he grinned at Ziva and she couldn't help but smile back. "Apparently I'm destined to be a sniper."

"Remind me never to get in your bad books!" Ziva exclaimed and he laughed.

"I'm Damon Werth and I'm sixteen," the boy Ziva had met earlier smiled at her again. She quite liked Damon, although he seemed like a bit of a player. "I love drama and acting and I'm on the football team. Running back."

The introductions continued until Ziva had a mental list of names to remember. Tony, Jimmy, Jethro, Damon, Roy, Kevin, Chris, Nathan, Adrian, Jon and Alex. She committed their faces to her memory.

"Get into groups of three," Ryan instructed his class. "Then we're going to have a little competition to see which group's the quickest at changing a tyre."

Ziva grimaced. She didn't know much about mechanics at all. She raised her hand. "Is it not better for the tyre to be changed well rather than quickly?" she piped up. The teacher chuckled.

"True, but raging competitiveness is always a good way to start the semester," he grinned at her before turning to the class. "So, which group is going to go first?"

Gibbs gestured at Ziva for her and Tony to go in a group with him.

"We will," Damon grinned, pointing to his group of Roy, Nathan and himself. Ziva guessed they were considered the 'hotshots.' Apparently, all three were seniors like Gibbs.

They all headed over to stand around the three. Mr. Brennan held up a stopwatch. "Three, two, one…" he hit the start button, "and go!"

The three got to work and after eight minutes and twenty three seconds, the tyre was replace, the car lowered, the wheel nuts tightened and the hubcap attached once again.

"Not bad, not bad," Mr. Brennan conceded. "Next?"

The next two groups took relative times of fifteen minutes and forty two second and nine minutes and twelve seconds.

"Ziva, DiNozzo and Gibbs. Think you can beat them?" Mr. Brennan turned to the little group.

"Sure we can," Tony grinned and leaned to whisper to Ziva. "We'll tell you what to do."

"Excellent!" Ziva exclaimed. "Because I have no idea!"

Gibbs and Tony called out instructions for Ziva. "Can you pass me the flathead screwdriver?" "Pass me the jack handle!" "Socket spanner, please!"

"Finished!" Tony exclaimed, and promptly fell over the removed tyre and sat on the ground. Ziva stifled a laugh.

"Not bad, not bad," Mr. Brennan conceded, reading the time.

"Who won?" Nathan asked cockily, grinning at his group before smirking at Ziva.

"Well, with a time of… SEVEN minutes and twenty one second, the final group win!" Mr. Brennan grinned and Tony and Gibbs high-fived each other before high-fiving Ziva also. Nathan, Damon and Roy gaped at the group.

"But…" Nathan protested and groaned.

"Beaten by a girl!" Tony taunted and Ziva stood on his foot. "Ow!"

"You others want to know WHY they won?" Ryan Brennan asked the other groups. Some shrugged. "Because they worked as a team."

"Exactly," Tony nodded and Ziva smirked.

"Unlike some of you, they worked together and didn't try to 'one-up' each other," Mr. Brennan informed them. Gibbs smiled at his group.

"But you were still beaten by a girl," Tony reminded them and was rewarded for his taunting efforts with a discreet kick in the shin from Ziva.

"And now, I think I'm going to try some teaching before I find you lot have killed each other," Mr. Brennan interrupted before anyone could say anything. "Or before you all kill DiNozzo."

_**

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A/N: N'awww, who would want to kill Tony? Uh, many people, apparently! XD Feedback is muchas appreciated!**_


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